


Just Dance!

by Mimmikyu



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: 2wordy4me, Eventual Smut, Everyone Is Gay, F/M, M/M, Modern AU, Multi, actually they aren't burr and adams are straight, i also blame kian, ily all but im going to hell, long ass story no one wants to read, nat is a filthy sinner, nat why must you do this, see you in hell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-05 17:43:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6714658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimmikyu/pseuds/Mimmikyu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Madison is part of a dance crew taught by the famous George Washington. After a big show, James meets someone that he hasn't met before... but he's definitely strange.</p><p>Madison finds a way to befriend two people he never thought he would in his life: Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson.</p><p>Nice modern AU.</p><p>https://youtu.be/k51UB7XHO0M</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Big Show

**Author's Note:**

> DAMN SON THIS SHIT JUST GOT HIT WITH 200 HITS
> 
> MAN
> 
> also expect the rest of chapter three and chapter four up by monday or something idk

There I stood upon the chilly hardwood floor; I could hear the crowd going wild upon the entrance of this beautiful, elegant team. We were famous; many came from around the world to New York City just to witness us: the dance team that was trained to perform yearly at one time or another specifically for government fundraising. It might be a lesser cause for dancers to dance, but I kind of enjoyed it. Thing is, we didn’t really get the recognition - it was our instructor that did.

From left to right, the dancers lined up upon the stage: on the very left stood a red-haired, somewhat short young man wearing a tannish leather coat, white skinny pants, his light face decorated with beautiful blue eyes; the two right next to him were wearing the same outfits - a black leather coat with a white shirt as well as white skinny pants - but one had a much more broad face with a brownish tint in his hair, while the other had more of a bulky build with jet black hair; the one right next to them was a Frenchman whom was wearing a bluish jacket along with the same white pants as the others - his eyes were a nice blue and his hair was a vibrant brown; and then there was me: the man on the very right who everyone thought was “cute” or “lovely;” the outfit I wore at that event was the same as the other two I defined earlier; a proud man with light hazel eyes and jet black hair.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” the announcer (who was also our fair instructor) called out, raising a hand proudly above his head, “For our annual performance, I present to you a team that I have put together and raised to become the best dancers that they could be!” He took a step back to accept the large portion of applause that he received. “Also, we have a special guest that I am proud to present to you tonight…” he motioned his head to the side of the stage, taking note of a young man with jet black hair, wearing a blue-and-gold suit similar to the Frenchman. Our announcer continued, “Please welcome… the talented Charles Lee!”

Charles bowed and took in the applause from the audience before saying, “I am very thankful to be here… Mister Washington’s dance team is definitely one of the - if not, the - best dance teams you could ever find. I’ve seen all five of these men practice in front of me to my music and they’re absolutely incredible. I was entranced by their swift, perfect movements and I deem you all lucky to see them here today.” A pleasing smile came upon his face as he accepted more applause from the audience, nodding his head with thoughtfulness and determination in his eyes.

“Thank you, Charles Lee,” Washington said into the mic before dismissing the applause. “The Introduction has gone on for too long, I suppose - it’s about time we get the show started!”

I gulped at these words and felt my stomach turn; I felt as if I wasn’t ready enough for this moment. I tapped my foot nervously as Charles began to clear his throat, recalling all twenty-five five-hour practices (it had to be absolutely perfect). As soon as words in notes came out of his mouth, we began to move in unison. We raised an arm to the left and to the right, bowing with each arm stroke. We stepped forward once and spun slowly, but this was the hardest part for me: the transition from unison to separate parts. As I was supposed to, I moved to the right and came face to face with the first man I described earlier. I looked at him in his wonderful blue eyes, though rather hard to do since I was much taller than him. This man’s name was Alexander and he was one of the best dancers in the group, winning Instructor Washington’s praise almost every day and having him assist me almost every time I mess up. I began to recall one practice, most notably the funniest. And guess what? It was this practicing this five-second sequence.

 

_I scrambled around on the floor, groaning because of the mistake and also the pain of falling on the floor for the five-hundredth time. I looked up to George and we sighed in unison. He raised a hand and said, “Alexander, please show James how you two should translate each other.” Alexander nodded before placing me where he was and asking me to move forward. I did so, and he made a jump spin right past me just as we were supposed to do at the same time at that moment. Though, as I was just normally walking, I misplaced my foot over his, and this time, we both fell face-first onto the ground. ___

_George put a hand to his forehead and began shaking it. “Men, we’ll have a lunch break. Twenty minutes, all of you.” He then turned around and began pacing towards his own lunch box. After I got up, I turned around to see Alexander about to put his hand on my shoulder. He’s a nice guy, yeah, though he can get quite annoying sometimes, being oh so confident in his abilities and having just that big mouth of his. I wish sometimes that I could bash that face in, but I’ll be honest: he looks too good for that to happen._

_Anyway, he shrugged his shoulders and put his arm around mine, as if I was his “buddy,” like one of those elementary terms, yeah? But he said to me thoughtfully, “Hey James, you okay?”_

_I merely shrugged as well and said, “I’m fine. Just disappointed that I can’t get that part down… also, sorry for tripping you. Did I hurt your face?”_

_He giggled said, “If that was flirting then that was so bad my face could have shattered at that comment!” I flinched at this statement before he continued, “I’m kidding - lots of people say I have a beautiful face, and I don’t blame them. I do look good in the mirror.” He smiled and I chuckled._

_“Anyway,” he continued, “Lemme buy you something for lunch as a token of appreciation. You’re a wonderful dancer but you just make a lot of mistakes… and, sorry, I mean a lot.” I rolled my eyes and said, “Thanks for the lunch offer, but I already have my own plans.”_

_He stood up tall in front of me and said, “Then take me with you!” Honestly, he looked adorable when he was determined, and the worst thing you could do was ruffle his hair as if he was a child - which I did. I ran my hand through his hair and shook it before running away, and you should have seen the look on his face._

_“James Madison!” he blurted out, running after me, “Alexander Hamilton’s gonna get you in your sleep!”_

To my surprise, as I remembered that moment, I leaped right by his side to my destination. I caught a glimpse of Alexander smiling at me and my success. I nodded thoughtfully to him as I turned around and came face-to-face with one of the men whom was wearing the same outfit as me: Hercules Mulligan. This was quite an easy part for me to dance; all I needed to do was spin around while grabbing his hand.

I soon let go of him and did the same thing with two other men named John Laurens and Marquis de Lafayette. This was a cheerful, square-like dance (even if it was quite hard to complete), so I kept my head held high with a smile plastered across my face. It was almost organized chaos on the stage. Oh, hey look, an oxymoron. I like those things - they’re interesting, putting two words together that literally mean the opposite things. I’ll give you a few more examples: jumbo shrimp, racial equality, and Microsoft works.

After the short, three-minute dance was done, all seven of us took a bow and went backstage. When I got back there, I immediately sat down. Alexander looked down at me and smiled, playfully punching my shoulder.

“Ayy, you got the whole dance down on performance night!” he said aloud, making me blush slightly. I looked up at him and replied, “And you think you didn’t make any mistakes during practices?” 

At this, he shook his head and took a seat right next to me. “Wanna go out for dinner or something to celebrate? I mean, I can pay for it - I got the money.”

“You economic wonder,” I sarcastically said, rolling my eyes and sitting back. A laugh emitted from Alexander’s mouth as he said, “The last time I offered you lunch was the time we kind of actually got along, but now I can assume you’ll deny my offer of paying for your food because we actually did something good tonight!”

“Actually, I think I’ll take y’all out for dinner,” said a voice, revealing itself to be George. Alexander and I looked up to him with a look like, ‘Are you serious?’ He chuckled at the clueless expression on our faces and urged us to get up. “Come on, let’s go pick a restaurant to go to.”

For a while, we lightly argued about where to go, and when we were out the door, we still hadn’t decided where to go, but that wasn’t exactly important right then. What was important was that a tall man with short blonde hair and light blue eyes walked up to me and asked, “Are you, perhaps, James Madison?”

I froze for a second at the strange encounter and stammered, “Wh-who’s asking?”

He politely replied, “Me - you’re a lovely dancer. You stood out most of the time during the dance, and you’re not too bad in looks.” He paused before continuing, “Oh, pardon me, Mister Madison - my name is Thomas. Thomas Jefferson.”

\-----------------------------

 **> Hamilscrub:** >me, twenty minutes ago  
>currently pissed about something  
>sink pipes break  
>i have to call plumber  
>john is a huge nintendo fan  
>john looks at me and asks, “so you have to call mario?”  
>i tie him up in the closet as punishment for making a game reference  
**> Madison:** O.O’  
**> Madison:** Uh, what are you talking about?  
**> Hamilscrub:** it’s called greentext you shithead


	2. Hamilsquad Table Manners

“Thomas Jefferson?” I echoed, an odd-looking expression on my face; he said his name as if I was supposed to know him, but I happened to not even know he existed. However, I decided to be polite and reach out for him to shake my hand - in which, he did - as I replied, “Nice to meet you, Thomas; and as I may have implied, my name is James Madison.”

Thomas grinned before looking around, seeing the dance group all waving frantically across the street for me. I waved back, but Lafayette yelled quite loudly, “We are going to ze American reztauraunt a flew blocks down! We will meet you zhere!”

I nodded quickly in response before turning back to Thomas. “I’ve gotta catch dinner with the guys. Thanks for the compliments,” I said before continuing down the steps of the entrance to the performance hall. Thomas followed my movements with his eyes and a grin on his face before simply saying, “Well, bye,” to himself as I walked off.

~ 

I walked up to a notably large-sized restaurant, continuing inside to be greeted with an exhibit of American scents. I glanced around and saw the whole team waving for me to come over, appetizers and drinks already on the table. I smiled and walked over, taking a seat right by Alexander, who was sitting next to John; what I could hear from their conversation was a few low flirty comments from Alexander that Washington wasn’t able to hear. Lafayette was sitting right next to John and was also in on the conversation, complimenting Alexander on his flirting skills. George was having a conversation with Hercules about the price of the dishes and how busy the place was. While Hercules was complimenting the place for its nice design and service, George was complimenting the prices of the food. I attempted to lean into Hercules and George’s conversation, but found myself irrelevant, leading myself into the flirtatious conversation.

A light giggle came from John as he said, “A-Alex stop! You’re making me blush, you goddamn gay ass hoe!” Alexander giggled back and wrapped an arm around his, pulling him into a hug. “Johnny, you’re so damn cute when you’re being treated with affection - we should go out for dinner more often.” John scrambled his hand on the table, presumably looking for a fork or something, but to no avail. “Alexander, I am going to stab you!” he blurted softly, his face becoming more red. Alexander grinned and, again, continued to feel up John’s arm. “My, I didn’t know you were into _that!_ ”

I couldn’t help but to burst out laughing at the comment from Alexander, whom earned a slap in the face from John. Lafayette’s face was red with laughter, applauding the couple for their magnificent flirting skills with each other. John shook his head as Alexander groaned, “ _Hit me baby - one more time._ ” The irritated man rolled his eyes as the waitress came, pen out and ready to take our order. I smiled as I ordered first, “I’ll have a hamburger, please.” She nodded and turned to John as he said, “I’ll have the chicken strips basket, thank you.”

Alexander turned to John and lowly said, “So I can shove them in your ass?” He soon hid with me from a smack from John, giggling intensely as I pushed him off of me, who was beginning to crack up again after a fit of laughter. We were soon interrupted by a loud and irritated, “Alexander!” We looked to the other end of the table to see George and Hercules both staring at us, George’s face stern and Hercules slightly giggling. Alexander chuckled and sat back, looking up to the waitress. 

“Th-the shrimp and fish fillet basket would be nice, miss… and cocktail sauce on the side with the shrimp, please?” he said, nodding to the waitress. I could tell that he was very gay because he didn’t try to flirt with the waitress, because I must admit that she was gorgeous; though, sometimes he did flirt with the male waiters.

Lafayette smiled and ordered a type of pasta, which made me question if he was French or actually Italian - turns out he just liked pasta; Hercules ordered a hamburger liked mine; and George ordered a regular ham sandwich. After the waitress took all of our orders, George looked to Alexander and sighed. “Alexander, please use proper table manners - there are some things you do and say at the table and there are some things you don’t.”

Alexander smiled before giving a hearty laugh, looking around thoughtfully. “I am using manners, just different manners than you’re used to. I’m using Hamilsquad Table Manners.” He paused to find a piece of paper in his pocket as well as a pencil. He began to write a quote down onto the piece of paper before clearing his throat and reading it, “Thou shalt be able to converse about whatever thou would like; whether or not it is deemed inappropriate does not concern thyself.” 

George rolled his eyes and looked away, seemingly just leaving Alexander and John alone to do whatever they’d like. You see, George has always been seen as a father figure to Alexander, always telling him what to do and praising him when he does something right. It doesn’t help that not only they live near each other, George sometimes calls him “son,” which Alexander doesn’t usually like because he doesn’t like the ownership.

Soon enough we got our food and it wasn’t long until Alexander was trying to have John deep-throat an astoundingly long french fry that he found with his seafood meal. Lafayette and I were laughing so hard again at the flirtatious intentions of Alexander, we almost forgot to eat. We ate for about an hour before leaving, mainly waiting on Alexander to stop messing with John and his food. I began to step out the door when I heard a familiar voice call, “James!”

I turned around and saw the same man from earlier wearing a black suit and what seemed to be an apron. I smiled and waved lowly. “Thomas! I didn’t know you worked here!”

He walked over, grinning. “Part time,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’m a lawyer, usually, but that can get a bit boring sometimes so I picked up a job at a restaurant here too!” 

I smiled and tapped my foot in a rhythm before turning to walk out. “I should go,” I said as he shrugged. “Hope to see you again.”

I walked out the door and into the city, hearing the whirr of the bustling activity and the flooding of people on the streets. New York City was a huge place with lots of different people (and it can get VERY crowded), but it’s my one and only home.

\-----------------------------

 **> Hamilscrub:** sign me the FUCK up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck the end is supposed to be
>
>> [View post on imgur.com](//imgur.com/EG6Eidv)


	3. Letters and Appointments (title subject to change)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TFW THIS TOOK SO LONG TO DO BECAUSE I'M FUCKING SICK OF MOVING LOCATIONS LIKE THIS EVERY 3 DAYS LIKE WtwfffFFFF
> 
> anyway  
> have your insecure james madison chapter <333

It was a wonderful Thursday to be outside. My parrot was right by my side as I pet her; she chirped for a fair response of my hand running through her feathers. I never quite taught her how to mimic speech because I never found the time to teach her. Maybe this summer I can perfect her vocabulary.

Polly chirped as she noticed a man walking up to the house, carrying a letter. He stopped as he noticed the parrot and I, simply staring. After the short spell, he said, “Are you James Madison?”

I nodded and replied, “Yes, sir.”

“I have some specific mail from you. It’s from your psychologist, John Adams. He wants to set up another appointment to see how you’ve been doing.” He smiled as he spoke the words, but I froze; John Adams was indeed my psychologist, but we assumed that there was almost absolutely nothing wrong with me. I shrugged and took the letter from him as well as a lot of other mail, staring at the letter from “Dr. John Adams,” tapping my foot. Polly looked down from my shoulder and chirped as I pet her. “Thank you,” I said to the mailman, who nodded and walked to the next house that had mail to be delivered.

~

I had set the appointment for the twenty-second, which was two weeks after I received the letter. When those two weeks had passed, I wandered through the hospital doors curiously, noticing a tiny reorganization of the decor. I checked in with the receptionist and sat down, awaiting to be called by a nurse or someone else. I looked to my left, noting a coffee machine right next to my chair. I turned to it and sighed.

“Coffee,” I murmured to myself, looking around. “It wakes you up in the morning because of what’s inside it: caffeine.” I blinked, picking up a styrofoam cup and placed it under the spout, selecting black coffee and watched as the blackish goodness dribbled down. I smiled. “It doesn’t give you the complete will to live, but what does?” When the last drop of coffee came down, I grabbed some creamer and sugar and mixed it in, beaming at the drink.

I sat down and began to contemplate thoroughly, tapping my foot as well as sipping my coffee. I looked at it and said, “Many say that love and coffee go together so well that they’re the reason why they wake up in the morning.” I looked across the room and saw a family of three: a tall, proud man and a woman with a boy by her side. I’ve always wondered what love really felt like; you can’t really tell the feeling of love just by looking at a family and trying to guess - you really have to feel it to believe it; and I guess I just haven’t ever felt that way before because I really haven’t felt the need to. Love just isn’t for me, I suppose.

After about ten minutes, I was called down for my appointment. Just as I had expected, Adams was waiting for me in a chair opposite to another. He urged me to sit down in the empty chair, of which I did. He greeted me before we began the session with a simple question, “James, how are you?”

I smiled briefly and said, “I’ve been alright; though, when I got some coffee today I started contemplating.” I folded my hands and leaned over. “Though my stress has been relieved because the show is over, I just have this… empty feeling inside, like I’m just trying to figure out why people choose to live and what keeps them going throughout the years.”

Adams paused before shifting in his seat. “Well, it depends,” he began, nodding, “Some people believe that the exciting thrill of seeing tomorrow is what keeps them alive, some of them the wondrous things in the world, and some of them just keep going because they’re still trying to figure it out.” He sat tall in his chair. “I could compare them to you, frankly.”

I shifted nervously as he asked very honestly, “Have you ever been in love?” At this, I shook my head as a reply and looked down. This fellow was married - I know that - but I’m just a single James Madison who hasn’t even felt the grasp of the phenomenon of love. He leaned over and put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m good buddies with your lawyer, Aaron Burr, and he also happened to help me pick up my dear Abigail. I could get him to lend a hand to you.” He grinned as I shrugged. “I don’t really feel as if I need someone to be with, Doctor. I like being alone; especially with Polly. She’s the only one who can bring me satisfying company at home.”

Adams chuckled slightly before looking down, trying to figure out psychologist stuff. I shifted again before saying, “I don’t think I’m ready for a dedication quite like that.” The doctor sighed and dislodged the eye contact between us for a second before looking me straight in the eye again. He began to speak again, “I haven’t seen you in six months. How was life before the performance?”

I began to twiddle my thumbs as I began to remember. “Stressful,” I replied, “I was the weakest member in the group; but somehow, I did absolutely perfect at the final run. I think it’s because I was anticipating for that moment and really wanted to do that. Alexander also helped me keep my head high with the praise he brings to me…” I hung my head. “He knows that I nearly despise him, though. He’s just saying that so I can do well and not ruin the performance.”

“I’m gonna stop you there,” Adams said, blinking and holding out his hand. “I know Alexander - I’ve seen him for multiple treatments for being considered an outcast to society. He’s a really nice guy and really does want to help people.” He flashed a smile. “I bet he really does care for you; he might even be trying to heal his own pain.”

I frowned and rolled my eyes. “I don’t doubt it,” I admitted, sighing. “Wearing a mask of humor and annoyance just to either make people the same as you feel or to give joy to yourself and others…” I contemplated for a little bit before coming to a conclusion that it was the latter. 

“Okay,” began Adams, “So how about a few questions? Are you okay with other people being affectionate to you? How well do you socialize with others?” I sighed and stood up, planning on leaving. Adams continued to ask questions. “Is there anyone in your community that you really like? What’s your sexuality?”

“My sexuality is I-don’t-even-remotely-caresexual,” I snapped as I opened the door to leave. “Good day.” Even though Adams attempted to stop me from leaving; before I heard an actual word out of him I had already walked out the door.

Uneasy, I looked around the hospital and walked out the door before sitting down on one of the benches. “... I need a moment,” I murmured to myself, taking out my phone for any texts I needed to answer; but then I had a sudden urge to call my lawyer, Aaron Burr, to see if Adams was actually right about him being a successful wingman. I shrugged, even though I didn’t really care for it, and called him up. It could be a little social practice since I’m usually not the one to talk.

He picked up. Here it goes.

\-----------------------------

 **> rodent:** heyy i’m gonna have ham for diinner n.n  
 **> Madison:** That sounds really kinky for some reason, considering that you’ve been saying that he’s coming over to your house today and you’re dating him. That all adds up.  
 **> rodent:** wtf i meant i’m cooking ham for alex tonight he LOVES ham  
 **> Madison:** _Definitely_ believable.

**Author's Note:**

> oh look, my first work that's posted  
> man this chapter took like, two days to fully think through.  
> oh well, nice cliffhangers though.
> 
> me at 11 PM:
> 
> [23:00:12] +Day of the Dead♥: ((madefderson master ship))  
> [23:00:20] +Day of the Dead♥: ((*madefferson))  
> [23:00:37] +Day of the Dead♥: ((i dont think i can write uder these conditions))  
> [23:00:43] +Day of the Dead♥: ((night))


End file.
